


For the Chlidren

by icarusforgotten



Series: Spideypool Week 2015 [4]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Humour, M/M, sp week day 4, spideypool week 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusforgotten/pseuds/icarusforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter finds himself talked into a disturbing situation by Wade. One in which teletubby costumes are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Chlidren

**Author's Note:**

> day 4 prompt: dressing up

  
“You want me to wear  _what_?”

“Come on, Petey, it’s for a good cause!”

“No.” There was no way in hell Peter was going to dress up as a teletubby, even if it  _was_  for supporting a children’s hospital.

Wade loved kids, and he would do next to anything for them, and Peter supported that, he really did. But this was too much. This was crossing a lot of personal boundaries that Peter was adamant about upholding.

Like the fact that the teletubbies have terrified him throughout the majority of his childhood, and Peter has still not completely gotten over it. Hey, childhood traumas are no laughing matter, no matter how silly they may be. As far as Peter knew, he wasn’t the only one who was freaked out by the damned show. At least that’s what he liked to think.

So yeah, Peter had his reasons to not want to dress up as one of those things.

And if he was being completely honest, Peter didn’t quite believe that this was a legit event.

Especially since Wade was endorsing it.

“Please, Pete? Think of the children!”

“I  _am_  thinking of the children. Thinking of how friggin terrifying those things were for me as a kid. If anything, I’m being merciful here. Sparing the kids any trauma.”

Wade’s only response was to pout. He held the costume up closer to Peter, seeming to measure him up in it. Again. “But you look so cute in it, baby boy! There’s no way the kids will be traumatised by this.”

“It’s not the costume, it’s the  _concept_  they’ll be terrified of. And quite frankly, I think they have every reason to be terrified. ”

“The only thing terrifying about you is your sour-puss attitude,” Wade muttered. He fell to his knees, grip nearly tearing the fabric of the obscenely coloured costume. “Baby boy,  _please_!” he wailed. He crawled close to Peter, hugging his thighs so tightly he almost fell over.

“Nuh-uh, no way.” He wasn’t going to budge on this.

The hand at the back of his thighs slid up to grope him. Peter yelped, and this time he did fall back. Wade wasted no time in seizing the opportunity – he climbed onto Peter, straddling him. That look in his eyes was not a good one.

“Wade,” he growled, just about ready to push him off.

Except Wade pulled out the one thing from his arsenal that Peter could never say no to: his mega-pout. The most inglorious pout ever to manifest itself on this earth. It could make puppies cry. Damnit, Wade knew Peter was weak to that.

“Fine,” he groaned, slapping a hand over his face at Wade’s excited yelp.

Which was soon replaced with a howl of pain.

Peter never did deny playing dirty.

\--

“I don’t know about this, Wade. I mean just  _look_  at them. I think I just made them  _more_  miserable!”

“Relax, Petey! That’s just how sick kids express gratitude these days!”

It was a new low for Wade to think he could get away with treating Peter like a clueless five-year-old. Still, he muffled the irritated sigh building up within him and pulled out the most irritatingly cheerful voice he could muster instead.

“Hey, kids!”

A child in the back corner of the communal hospital room began to wail in terror. 

“No, don’t cry!” Peter realised that he was still using that same ludicrous voice. God, he hated the teletubbies even more now.

“Sing the song!” Wade called from behind him. If he was going for stealthy then he failed miserably, because that raspy whisper was loud enough to catch the attention of the kids at the back of the room.

Something poked at Peter’s back. One of the kids started laughing. Another sharp poke, and the room was soon filled with shrill giggles.

Peter turned. Wade was holding out an incredibly large water gun. “Bye bye, tubby monster.”

Oh no.

The stream of water was overpowering; it knocked Peter down with one shot.

“Now, attack! Defend yourselves from the tubby monster!”

The stream of giggles grew louder, and right as Peter was raising himself from the puddle on the floor, a weight fell onto him, and another. The children were dog-piling him, draping themselves over him.

One kid’s foot connected with his crotch, blacking out his vision momentarily.

In the background a camera snapped. Peter turned his head.

Wade was standing over him with a camera, grin triumphant, cheering the kids on to defeat the tubby monster.

He was so dead when this was over.

**Author's Note:**

> poor peter


End file.
